


You're My Flame

by sageofchaos



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Puns, Cooking, Cute, F/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 17:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9776195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sageofchaos/pseuds/sageofchaos
Summary: Created for the Meihem Secret Cupid over on Tumblr.Mei tries to surprise Jamison with a home-cooked meal.  But when her plan goes awry and Jamie jumps in to help out, they end up surprising each other.  Takes place in the same continuity as my other Meihem story, "You Don't Have A Clue", but you don't need to read that to get this.





	

Overwatch wasn’t the kind of organization with big headquarters or fortresses anymore - in the year since the recall, they just had to make do with abandoned warehouses, friends’ houses, or even pure camping. While camping here in the forests of Stuttgart wouldn’t have been that awful, Mei did find herself grateful that Reinhardt had lent out his modest little cabin for them to use during this particular mission. Cozy and rustic, and filled with incredibly outdated fixtures and appliances.

Incredibly, impossibly, _dangerously_ outdated appliances. Mei didn’t know that until too late.

The pan finally finished tumbling on the floor, and clattered to a stop against a cabinet. The half-cooked beef roast sat on its side on the linoleum floor. Some of the juice slowly pooled around it. Mei, who had sunk to her knees on the floor, could only regard it sadly as she cradled her right hand to her chest.

The door from the den slammed open, opposite from where she sat in the small kitchen. Jamison lept out from the dark, wearing only his pajama pants, and his hair somehow even more disheveled after sleeping, all of it smashed towards the right.

“Heard screamin’!” He waved around a bronze lamp in one hand, and looked around the room wildly. “Who is it? Lemme at ‘em!”

“Nobody’s here.” She sniffled, and dabbed her eyes with her sleeve. “I just hurt myself.”

“Hurt?” He set the lamp on the counter behind him and took a knee beside her. “How? Where?”

Mei bit on her lip, trying to keep down more crying. She drew her hand from her chest and splayed it open - most of her hand was bright red, except for her palm and fingers. The skin cracked a blistering white.

His face also blanched, once he got a good look at her injury. Jamie’s hands twitched in midair, like he wanted to do something but had no idea what. “Uh…I see…we gotta take care of that…”

“I know. Snowball?” Her little robot woke himself up out of his charging dock, set in the corner. It hovered over, looked at her hand and beeped in sympathy. Then, Snowball blew layers of frost over her palm and fingers, until her whole right hand was covered in a translucent glove of ice. Within a few moments, her hand numbed, and she didn’t feel anything at all, not pain or anything else. It’d heal better like this, but it also left her hand basically useless. Snowball chirped, spinning around her hand to celebrate a job well done, then drifted back to his charging station to get some more energy for tomorrow.

She sighed, and realized that Jamie still was beside her, his hands wringing anxiously. She wiped the last of her tears from her cheeks with her uninjured hand, and tried to crack a small smile for him.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore. I’m okay. Besides being clumsy, and an idiot.” She pulled her knees up against her chest and sighed again, this time towards the roast on the floor. “The stoves I am used to cook only the food, not the pan too. I did not realize this old thing was so different. So I started cooking, and wanted to see how it was doing, and grabbed the pan, and…”

“Was nice and hot, seems like.”

“Yes.” Unsaid, she wondered if he thought she was a moron. Even though she didn’t register the pain anymore, Mei’s nerves still rattled, and she struggled to fully regain her composure.

Jamie, still crouched beside her, poked at the oozing beef chuck with a metal finger. “Didn’t even know we had food like this around.”

Of course he didn’t know. After they returned from scouting the nearby forest, he took his usual afternoon nap, and Mei seized her chance to be alone. She raced to the closest little grocer she could find, and bought the roast as well as some other fresh food, since Reinhardt’s cabin seemed to have none. The rice was already done, and rested in the cooker. She had garnishes for the meat, and some greens in the fridge. It was all supposed to be a surprise. He was supposed to wake up to the smell of a wonderful dinner, not to her childish screaming.

Mei pressed her forehead to her knees. “I’m sorry. I was really hoping for a special meal.”

Jamie tilted his head at her. “Why you apologizin’ to _me_ about that?” But she couldn’t respond to him, and just hugged her knees closer to herself.

She heard him stand up, pace around the kitchen a bit. He tossed the pan into the metal sink, then paced a bit around her, then the roast.

“Ughn! You’re acting like you ruined the thing.” Jamie lifted the roast, which was about the size of a small bag of rice, and threw it onto the counter. By the time Mei lifted her face from her knees, he had found an automatic carving knife, and sliced off the long, flat part of the roast that had touched the floor. “That good?”

“I…I guess.” If it were only her own night she ruined, Mei would’ve dumped the roast in the trash and ordered some pizza instead. Now, with Jamie around, she had to be more careful about food waste - even if the meat was lab-grown, she knew it was more than he ever even seen growing up. He looked over the oven now, opening the door and looking inside, closed the door, and considered the control panel carefully.

“Bleh.” He threw the knobs of the oven all to OFF. “Forget it. If you couldn’t make it go, I don’t stand a chance.”

“I was able to make it work, I just-

He wasn’t listening. He just continued to think out loud, tapping his lip and pacing around the kitchen. “How about a blowtorch? Or a small flamethrower? Or…oh!”

She dropped her knees to her side, and twisted around to watch him. “What is it?”

He threw the side door open, looked out, and apparently saw something among the snow and forest that made his grin fire up to 100%. “Ah, there’s one!”

“Jamie?” But he was gone, through the door and out into the late afternoon chill. She sighed deeply, and considered her frozen hand while she waited for him to come back in.

Had he gone to grab something from the truck? But the minutes drew out and he hadn’t returned. Mei had just managed to pull herself up from the floor when she heard a great electric roar, and the scream of metal.

“Jamie?!”

She ran outside in time to see two halves of an old steel beer barrel fall apart into a top and a bottom half, and Jamie laughing among the shower of sparks that sprayed across the snow. Still without his shirt, or sock or shoe for that matter, he pumped the whirring wireless buzzsaw over his head triumphantly, like a prize.

A fainting spell passed over Mei, swaying her on her feet. She braced herself in the doorframe, and after a moment, made herself call, “What are you doing?”

“You’ll love it!” he yelled back, not answering her question at all. He turned off the saw and ran it back to the shed, and returned with a hammer. He ignored the top half of the beer barrel, but the lower half he pinned to the ground with his peg leg, then cracked the hammer against the walls of the barrel, widening it. He ended up with something almost bowl-shaped, with the rounded flat bottom of the barrel still intact. It looked about the size of an open umbrella when he was done with it.

He kicked the snow off of some logs, and Mei didn’t realize until now that those logs were arranged in a circle around a slightly depressed pit. Jamie lifted the half-barrel over his head, showing it off to her apparently, and then set it over the center of the little fire area.

“A grate! Get me a grate!”

“I’m getting you a _coat_ first.”

He sprinted back into the kitchen, zooming right past Mei. He opened the oven door, and wrestled out one of the wire racks. Mei managed to throw a jacket over Jamie’s shoulders as he ran back out the door - one of Reinhardt’s jackets, in dark brown suede - which draped off of his thin frame like a cloak. He wouldn’t wait long enough for his shoe and sock, so she tossed them out the door after him.

“Slow down! Jamie, what has gotten into you?”

He cackled brightly. “We’re gonna make fire, woman!” Jamie pointed to Mei as she watched him from the side door. “Grab me the meat and a beer!”

“Get it yourself, you Neanderthal.”

“Oh! Funny you mention that…” His eyes positively glowed and his grin spanned his face. “I think you’ll find out that I’m more of a… _barbe-que-barian_!”

Mei threw up her hands and shut the door on him. His ringing laughter followed her around the kitchen.

She hadn’t considered a meal outside, not in this winter, but since he seemed committed to it, she now wondered what they would need. She filled a tray with things: the rice she made, salt and spices and sauce she bought at market, four bowls, utensils, gloves, napkins. A teapot filled with water, tea and some mugs. After she had gathered the things, she drew on her own coat and boots, and went outside again.

He had dragged a flat crate close to the pit, apparently as a prep table. She set the tea, rice, and all the utensils on it, then on her second trip, she brought the beef chuck on a cutting board, and the knife next to it.

Mei looked into the barbecue pit and winced. It seemed that while she was in the kitchen, he had dumped a pile of scrap and debris into the bottom of the half-barrel, apparently not checking to see if it was all burnable first. So she pulled out the varnished wood and plastic scraps she’d rather not have burning up and releasing carcinogens into the meal. But Stuttgart’s forest was old and filled with fallen branches and logs, and he easily found more fuel. Jamie basically skipped back to the pit with a new pile of wood, and used a knife to hack the damp bark off of them.

Reinhardt must have been fond of his fire pit. After digging around the shed for a few minutes, Mei found a bundle of dried almond wood, some metal skewers, a fire extinguisher (she sighed in relief at that one), and a leather satchel filled with grilling utensils. She gathered them up and deposited them next to Jamie, who knelt by the pit arranging the logs and the quick-burning trash. She sank onto a log and exhaled deeply, exhausted by all this unexpected work just to get a meal going.

“I hope this is safe,” she said.

“Course it is. I’m an expert!” He shot her a thumbs-up - the tip of his metal thumb, of course, flipped back to expose an open flame. He put his hand in the barbeque bowl and lit up the balled-up newspapers and paper trash in there.

She poured herself some tea, and watched him work for a little while. Over the time she had known him, she discovered that if he had something to focus all of his attention on, a lot of his erratic tics seemed to melt away. He deftly cut the roast into thin strips, hand moving smoothly from cut to cut, and then threaded the meat onto metal skewers. He clapped his hands when he was done, all the skewers arranged in a line on the cutting board.

“I put some spice on the roast already,” Mei said. “Did you want more?”

“Oh yeah, way more.” He looked over the arrangement she had though, and uncertainty crossed his brow. “Ain’t sure what all this is though.”

She extended a spoon to him. “Let’s experiment then.”

It was slow going with only one hand, but Mei poured or shook out a little bit of each of the flavorings, one by one, and had them taste it off the spoon. What he liked, she mixed together in one of the bowls she brought out.

“This one,” he said, pointing at the dark sauce bottle she had him sample. “Whassat?”

“ _Hoisin_.”

“ _Hoisin_ ,” he repeated. “That’s a good one. Lotsa that.”

“Good.” She would have cried if she had to have roast without it. Next was some hot sauce, which she dabbed delicately onto the spoon and extended to him. “How hot should it be?”

“As hot as it gets.” He brushed aside the offered spoon, and waggled his eyebrows at her. “How much fire do you think you can handle, sweets?”

Mei stared him down, matching his suggestive look with a bland, stoic one of her own. Then, while holding his gaze, she poured an _extremely_ generous measure of the hot sauce into the bowl. “There.”

He laughed aloud in his seat, his feet stomping into the dirt and snow. “I love it!” he hollered, apparently to the trees and forest around them. “This peach is a spitfire!”

She shook her head, a blush finally rising to her cheeks. “You are so embarrassing.”

“Yeah?” He grinned. “Who’s to know?”

Eventually the marinade was finished, a goopy, thick dark mess. Jamie tested a dab of it and practically shivered. With care and focus again, he brushed the marinade over the strips, then set them over the grill, one at a time. Though the fire looked lower than before, it still burned incredibly hot, because the meat started sizzling in no time. Mei had been too busy before to notice how incredibly hungry she felt right now.

“Wow.”

He picked up a skewer with his metal hand, and spun around a pair of metal chopsticks in his other. He expertly plucked the meat off the skewer with the chopsticks, and offered it to Mei. “Here’s some for ya.”

She extended her bowl towards him, and let him pile the steaming, delicious looking grilled meat over her rice. Before she could tear into it herself, Jamie snatched up a small piece of beef in his chopsticks and hovered it in front of her face. “Say ‘ah’.”

“Ah.”

“Now say ‘ooooh, Mr. Fawkes~ You’re so handsome and talented.’”

She didn’t, she was too busy chewing. She had to fan her mouth against the heat. “Jamie,” she managed to say, “this is-”

Branches snapped and snow crashed down somewhere high in the trees behind them. In the back of her mind, Mei knew that she should expect this, but still ended up surprised at the loud thud that thundered the ground a few meters behind them. A silhouette appeared through the brush, and strode with heavy, armored steps towards the glow of the fire pit.

The figure took off her helmet. Though thin, dark blue fabric protected the lower half of her face from the cold, absolutely no one could mistake this woman’s sharp eyes, her udjat tattoo.

“Fareeha.” Mei stood up from her log. She hid her iced hand behind her back, deciding that she was not ready to explain it yet. “How did your scouting go?”

“Surprisingly well. There are some promising locations for us to dig up tomorrow.”

There was a secret directive hidden in the code of the sentry robots that were deployed here in the outskirts of Stuttgart, a secret Overwatch only got wind of within the last week. Mei had asked Zenyatta, _carefully_ , to probe Bastion’s memory for any hint of what it had forgotten, but Bastion had rewritten so much of itself, and the data was gone. The rewrite was a wonder of Bastion’s free will, of course, but the loss of its data made Overwatch’s investigation all the more difficult. Recovering other sentry bot from Eichenwalde might help them crack the code.

But someone else was now spiriting away the other broken bots, it seemed. After twenty years of leaving them to rust, someone only now found it urgent to take the remaining sentries away. But who, and why? Mei hoped they could recover a robot before she got the chance to find out.

Only Mei gave Fareeha a standing welcome. Jamie glanced over his shoulder instead, a nervous habit of his. Mei knew who he looked for, but Roadhog wasn’t even on the same continent as them right now. Jamie instead grunted and shoved his hands into his coat’s pockets, and slumped into his seat even deeper. He didn’t want Fareeha to notice him, and she never wanted to talk to him.

The captain was still for a few moments, considering the scene carefully. Mei realized she was staring at the fire pit, and the collection of Reinhardt’s barbeque gear next to it.

“Are you alright?” Mei asked.

“Ah, yes. This just brought back some memories.” Fareeha sat down on one of the logs, and set her helmet on the seat next to her. “I didn’t expect to come home to such a…rustic meal.”

“I bought some things in town,” Mei explained. She found the third bowl she had filled with rice, and extended it to the captain. “I had enough of the rations, and wanted to make something special.”

“A welcome surprise in weather this cold.”

Fareeha picked few skewers off the sizzling grate, then slid the beef slices on top of her rice, like Mei’s. She cut them into smaller portions with her chopsticks, then scooped up a mouthful into her mouth. Her eyes brightened in surprise.  
  
“It’s so good! You surprise me with all of your talents, Mei.”

Mei glanced at Jamie, already pretty sure of what she’d see. His face was so incredibly emotive, a mixed blessing because she always could tell how he felt, for better or worse. He glowed with pride, for a moment, then the next his whole face fell.

She lifted a finger to her lips. _Sssh_. His lips twitched in a brief snarl, and he crossed his arms and looked aside.

“Fareeha, that is very kind of you to say. What about it do you like?”

“These strips! They are so tender. It has a bit of crisp and crust on it, but it melts on the inside.” She took a break for a moment, and seemed to savor the steam and smell for a moment. “And it is spiced very well.”

“That is very high praise.” Mei saw one of Jamie’s eyes peek open, looking back at her. She smiled to him, then back to Fareeha.

The captain “Actually, it reminds me of a beef rice bowl I once had, at a nice sit-down in Tokyo. Not the same flavors, but the same feel? This is very spicy, by the way.”

Mei laughed softly. “Hear that, Jamison? It tasted like a real restaurant cooked it.”

Fareeha was halfway through chewing another mouthful of her meal when her attention darted up to Mei. “Hm?”

“I didn’t cook tonight.” Mei lifted her iced-over hand. Fareeha put her hand to her mouth and gasped softly. “Well, I tried to, but I burned myself. Then Jamison graciously suggested to grill instead, so we wouldn’t waste the ingredients.”

The captain peered at him. “Is that so?”

“Totally selfishly! Not being nice at all!” He huffed, his arms still crossed, and shook his head. “I thought I’d puke if I had to eat them dried army bits again!”

“I made the rice, and helped a little with the spices.” Mei smiled. “But Jamison is the real artist here. Beef was always my favorite, but this is the best I’ve ever had.”

Jamie’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Fareeha paused eating. She glanced between Mei and Jamison a few times, definite confusion over her face. Sudden panic flared up in Mei’s spine. Had she been too obvious? But she had told the truth. And Jamie stared at Mei like he’d never heard a kinder thing in his life.

Maybe Fareeha would assume that Mei was being agreeable? So she smiled sweetly at the captain, and added, “Meals with teammates always taste better, right captain?”

“Yes. I suppose that’s true,” Fareeha finally said. She tapped the barrel with her armored toe. “Well, I did assume this contraption was a Junker’s doing.”

He straightened up in his seat and waved his arms around. “Of course! Made us a good ol’ fashioned barrel barbeque, just like home.”

Fareeha’s expression towards him changed somewhat - she still looked stern, but less interrogating, Mei thought. “Oh, Mr. Fawkes? Was this arrangement common for you?”

“Every night! Rain or shine! Dust or smog!” He then rubbed his hair with the heel of his hand, looking somewhat sheepish for a moment. “Except, I ain’t cook for an audience in a while.”

“I’m sorry I assumed then.” She looked thoughtfully at Jamie, like she was still trying to measure her opinion of him. “It seems like you are a man of more-than-one talent.”

“Ha! And plenty more where that came from, promise you that!”

Mei giggled into her hand. He was blushing! Jamie must have noticed, since he shot a glance back at her, muttered something to himself, and finally lifted his own food to his face and ate.

The conversation drifted to the details of Fareeha’s scouting, and the schedule for tomorrow’s search. Fareeha was almost exhaustingly thorough, wanting backup plans and a location to fall back to in case they encountered trouble. Mei paid close attention because Jamie definitely wasn’t. The glowing comments about his food made him even more attentive towards the second batch of beef slices, but Mei also noticed him glancing at her quite often, almost _shy_ glances that darted quickly away whenever she caught him.

Mei scooped out more rice for everyone, and Jamie leaned over to serve Fareeha another skewer of beef strips. But at the last moment he held it back, and wagged a finger at her. “Second helping - only if ya give me a look at one of them missiles.”

Fareeha’s eyes widened in surprise. At first, Mei was certain she would reprimand Jamie. But her face slowly softened, and she extended her bowl to him anyway.

“Maybe for Thanksgiving. Just to see you flash-cook a turkey with it.”

He stared at her for a moment, then slapped his knee and laughed. He dropped the strips in her bowl and she smiled thinly.

“It’s getting too cold out here for me. I’m going to take this inside.” She scooped up her helmet, then nodded at them as she stood up. “Thank you for dinner.”

The logs cracked and spit up some embers into the air. Even though the fire wasn’t as fierce as it was before, Mei’s skin still prickled from the warmth radiating from it. She closed her eyes and exhaled in relief. In her original plan, she and Jamie would have finished their dinner before Fareeha had come home. But somehow, this had worked out anyway.

His voice, low, reached her over the fire. “Hey.”

“Yes?”

“When’s Thanksgiving?”

She searched her memory. “I think…October?”

“Aw.” He propped his chin on his hands. “That’s a long time.”

“That’s okay.” She smiled at him. “I think Fareeha likes you better now.”

Jamie huffed and looked away. “Like I care what Jet Pack thinks of me.”

Mei watched the lights of different cabin rooms flick on and off, until it seemed like Fareeha settled into one room. Only then did Mei get up, and moved so that she could be closer to him. She hated hiding, but Overwatch couldn’t know about their relationship yet - they might separate her from Jamie, and stop them from going on missions together. Even the thought of that made her heart ache.

She hugged him from behind, pressed her chest to his back, and rest her cheek on his shoulder. He was warm like a glowing furnace, even in this cold. He turned his face towards hers, his eyes curious, and wondering.

“I believe that you always try your best,” she whispered in Chinese, quiet as a breath. She used to be so scared that he’d lash out, undo even the meager amount of trust the other agents had in him, and then flee Overwatch and all the protection it could offer a man on the run. But even with Roadhog gone, Jamie surprised her with his determination to prove himself. He tried so hard every day - to be good, to make friends, to do right by her.

She touched along the side of his jaw. He wanted so badly to belong. Once she had realized that, everything she had understood about him changed.

“Hm?” He hadn’t understood her quietly-spoken Chinese, and waited for her to repeat herself.

“I said, I love you for being so strong,” she said, in English. “And brave.”

The best part was watching his eyes widen. “I…uhhhh…”

She held her arms all the tighter around his chest, and smiled at him - the small and sweet smile that he once said made him go completely stupid. “And you are so cheerful all the time, and always make me laugh.”

Now he kicked his feet and squirmed in her loving chokehold. His face and ears bloomed with bright red blushes. “That’s not fair! Yer killing me!”

She pressed two light kisses to the side of his jaw. “And every day, I find more reasons to love you.”

He reached his arm back around her waist, lifted her and swung her around until she sat sideways across his thighs. Mei squealed and kicked out her feet, looking for her balance, when he kept a hand and her back and dipped her low. If she tilted her head back just a little, she’d see the forest upside-down behind her. But Mei couldn’t even think of anything but his bright gold eyes upon hers.

“You’re playing with fire, Snowflake,” he warned in a low, growl. Jamie loomed over her, and she shivered from the thrill of him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re _trying_ to drive me crazy.”

She put her hand to her mouth. “I would never!”

He looked so alive. “You give me wild ideas. Like that I’d want to grab ya like this, run off into the woods, and keep you just for me.”

“Oh no,” she whispered, as if the prospect was actually frightening. “Not that.”

Then he did what she wished he’d do - he ducked his face close, smirked, and kissed her. First lightly, fleeting and full of affection that she could drown in, and then when she gasped, a real one. But he kissed far too slowly, perhaps second-guessing his ability, or her delicacy. So she grabbed his coat collar with her good hand and pulled him to her, hoping to rid him of any doubt of what she wanted. She thought he smelled quite wonderful tonight, warm, like scorched bark, pine, sandalwood, and spice. The smell, and the heat of him, made her practically melt against Jamie, and soon the tension left his uncertain hands and lips as well.

Mei let the ice glove over her right hand snap, and even though her palm still hurt a little bit, she clutched at the back of his jacket, wanting to close every gap between them. His arms folded around her and matched the possessiveness, the need in her embrace. Alone, together in this snowy forest, her heart poured out for him with no reserve. She kissed so urgently and clung so tightly as if it were a ward against the rest of the world, against all the terrible forces that would take him from her, if only given a chance. No, she never wanted that, would never let that happen…

A loud crashing sound managed to cut through the thick fog of emotions. Her thoughts jarred. Noise, from the kitchen?

Jamie startled, lost his balance, and both he and Mei toppled forward into the dirt behind the fire pit. She blinked, dazed at the sudden fall, until she heard his urgent whisper and felt his hand at her back. “Up! It’s her.”

He drew himself up to only a crouch, and stooped over the grate so low that his face was nearly in the fire. He poked eagerly at the embers to make even more sprays of light. Bowed over like that, Fareeha should not be able to see the redness on his face, or his tell-all expression this way. The cabin door groaned open, slowly and dreadfully as Mei raced back to her seat.

“Hi!” She waved to the captain, now dressed in a cozy sweatsuit. Mei realized belatedly that her hand wasn’t in ice anymore, but she hoped that Fareeha didn’t notice. “Yes?”

She looked between the two of them at the fire, but Mei didn’t see any indication that that Fareeha was suspicious, or upset. Instead, the captain revealed two plastic packages from behind her, and held them up for Mei and Jamie to see. “As a thank you for the meal. Do either of you know about s'mores?”

Mei shook her head. “I’m not familiar?”

“I wasn’t sure if he’d have the ingredients around. But it _is_ Reinhardt we’re talking about, so…”

She tossed a package to Mei - chocolate covered cookies? And Jamie caught a pillowy white bag Fareeha threw over the fire, which he held by the corner as he peered over its (very, very cute) packaging.

“What are these for?” Mei asked.

“I think the pyro can figure it out.” She saluted, and stepped back into the cabin. “See you at 0700, soldiers.”

Mei looked at Jamie, but he only shrugged. “Dunno. Never seen these before.”

She sighed, and slumped deeply into her seat. For all of the discretion she demanded from Jamie, tonight she was doing a terrible job of controlling herself. But, Mei supposed, Fareeha probably wouldn’t have been so nice if she thought something was up. Somehow they were still okay.

She watched him open up the package and investigate the fluffy white candy inside. Jamie dangled one marshmallow over the fire, looked unsatisfied, and then tossed it to her. “This ain’t doing anything.”

Mei took one of the skewers from dinner, and pierced the marshmallow with it. “Maybe it needs to be closer.”

He watched over her shoulder as she waved the candy close to the flames. “Lookit!” he said. By the fire’s heat the marshmallow puffed up, and slowly deepened in color from white, tan, gold, until it just charred at the edge. She drew the treat back, then popped it off of the skewer and quickly into her mouth.

“Oh!” It took her a few moments to chew it down. “That actually tastes good! Like burnt sugar.”

“Lemme try.”

She turned to grab a second skewer, but his hand on her shoulder stopped her. Jamie grabbed her chin, and kissed her. Very quickly, there and gone again like the lick of a flame. He considered her, his hands holding her still, and ran his tongue over his lips.

“Hm, can’t tell. Is always sweet.”

Her neck and cheeks bloomed in color, and he laughed to himself uproariously. She tried to bat him on the arm, but he danced out of her way and onto his feet. He snatched up the second package Fareeha tossed, and looked over it by the light of the fire.

“What’re the cookies for then? We supposed to burn these too?”

“I don’t think that sounds right.” She couldn’t think straight, and sat with her hands clapped over her cheeks. He was so embarrassing. “Maybe?”

Jamie grinned. “Nothin’ to do but try, luv.”

**Author's Note:**

> Meanwhile -
> 
> Fareeha, hyperventilating and on the phone: I can’t believe it! I was not briefed on this! I was never told those two were so close. I thought they hated each other, but I saw them kissing! Just now!
> 
> Reinhardt: Ah! Young love! How tiny and adorable! And on Valentine’s Day too!
> 
> Fareeha: NOT adorable! This is the kind of thing that compromises missions! How the hell am I supposed to proceed like this?
> 
> Reinhardt: So _this_ is why that scrappy lad stole my cologne the other week. Sounds like Eau de Reinhardt worked out for him, haha!
> 
> Fareeha, banging her fist on the table: I need your advice, not your commentary!
> 
> Reinhardt:. No problem! I have just the thing for such emergencies! Check for a little black rope sticking out of the floorboards. Under the buffet table, I think.
> 
> Fareeha, fumbling: Let me look…yes…oh, it opens a hidden compartment! I can feel something in here…
> 
> Fareeha: …
> 
> Fareeha: Reinhardt. This is a growler filled with whiskey.
> 
> Reinhardt: Yes! Wonderful! You can handle anything now, little one!
> 
> Fareeha: …wait-
> 
> Reinhardt: Always happy to help! Just be a dear, and don’t let them use my bedroom. Bye! *disconnects*
> 
> Fareeha: …
> 
> Fareeha: This is too far above my pay grade to even deal with right now.


End file.
